The Darkness
by Faceless Mage
Summary: Jackie follows two storylines. Jackie kills himself over Jenny and goes to Hell. Now he must find the Darkness Guns and fight his way back out. The other Jackie must visit Butcher Joyce and protect him from one of Paulie's Capos Vito Manzana.
1. Chapter 1

THE DARKNESS

Chapter One

"Wake up, Jackie Boy. It's not your time. It's not your time."

I awoke abruptly, glancing around with my hand on the pistol holstered inside my jacket. The subway screeched down the line, the car rocking side to side.

The subway was riddled with crude graffiti. Curse words and graffiti artists had their names tagged all over the car windows, walls, floor and chairs. My head was throbbing.

"What the hell just happened?"

There was a bright flash in my mind and a German soldier with no face appeared in the corner of the train, sitting quietly with a Karabiner rifle tucked in between his knees. "I know you. Get the fuck out of here. Get out of my head. You took her away from me!"

I pulled my pistol and squeezed off four rounds at the German. Instead of reacting, his head turned to me and he spoke to me as if out of a dream. "Welcome back, Jackie. We missed you. I missed you." The German's voice was hoarse and choppy. "Who missed me? Who are you?" I shouted, pointing the gun at the German.

"You know me too well, Jackie. Too well," and the German disappeared in a cloud of black ash.

I holstered my pistol again, glancing around the train to see two people curled up in the corner. "Please don't hurt us!" they cried. I hate it when people do that.

"I don't want to kill you. I'm not after you." The train began to slow and with a screeching halt, the subway doors opened and I got off at Fulton Street Station.

Boy did my Uncle Paulie fuck me over. Fat pig fuck took me for granted and thought he could take away my life. He was right in a sense. A life lesson to be learned, family doesn't turn on family.

But does that mook listen? Hell no. He takes my pride, my family, my childhood…and my girl. What did she do? Nothing. I watched as that demon shit, my curse, my burden the Darkness hold me prisoner and make me watch.

My face was pressed against the glass. That crooked rat fuck Captain Shrote watched as Paulie stood in the doorway, Jenny tied up and held hostage in his sausage fingers.

In his other hand was that .44. That deadly revolver that changed my life forever. I watched as the cold steel was pressed against the back of her head. With the pull of a trigger, a ball of lead separated the connection between me and her.

The blood on the window became a painting burned into the back of my memory I can never get rid of. So, I used that same revolver…and took my life. Or so I thought.

Hell. Every bad memory. Everyone whose ever died. Everything that I hated and feared in my life was recreated in this realm of torment. But it wasn't as I depicted it.

It wasn't a massive cave of fire and brimstone. Demons and gremlins didn't roam free under the spell of a satanic figure. Instead, I was in France. Not beautiful France, city of lights and sweet wine.

It was country France, rolling hills and wide-open pastures.

The sky was red and black with fire and smoke. The sun's light was blocked out by the rising tornado of smoke coming from a crater a few yards from where I was standing. A withered tree was curled up and dying next to me. I began to walk.

As I neared the smoke, I noticed the land began to change. Instead of rolling hills, trenches were engraved into the landscape. Craters were bombed into the dirt and mud in and around the trenches. Soldiers were dug in deep, sitting in a foot of mud with their rifles resting up against the trench walls. "Where the hell am I?" I continued on, down towards the trenches where the smoke was coming from. Corpses lay strewn all over the ground in front of the trench, bodies blown apart and others lying face down in the mud surrounded by barbed wire. No man's land.

That's when a bullet came screaming past my head. I rolled to the side and pulled out my two personalized M1911s I got for my 21st birthday. Along with this fucking curse.

"Oi, drop ya pistols or we'll shoot you dead!" one of the soldiers shouted from his position.

I looked to see at least twenty or more rifles aimed at me.

"I speak English, don't shoot!" I called back, holstering my pistols.

"Move slowly towards the trench. Now!" I slowly made a move towards the trenches. I then dropped in and sat down on a milk carton that was filled with ammunition.

"State your name and business, sir!" one of the soldiers ordered. I didn't realize their faces from that far distance. Now, up close, I wanted to throw up. These soldiers' faces were sliced up.

Immense lines of stitches covered their faces. Some had blood-shot eyes and others had small gashes in their necks where their insides pulsed with crimson blood.

"The name's Jackie Estacado. Where the fuck am I?" I told them. One of the soldiers, they were obviously British, turned to another soldier behind him and whispered something in his ear.

"Don't we know an Estacado? Some Yank in the 28th Infantry…" The other soldier nodded. "Yeah, yeah. He showed up here about a week ago. Picked him up near the Belgian border. Bring him up here, will ya, Matthews?"

The soldier disappeared down the trench as the others continued to eyeball me with pointed rifles and bayonets. "You still haven't answered my question. Where the hell am I? This obviously looks like Hell," I said. The soldier in the front, who was dressed in full uniform and assumed himself to be the commanding officer laughed.

"It looks like Hell, yes. But this is Reims, some town near the Belgian border." I scratched my forehead, moving my hand through my long thick black hair.

France. How the fuck did I get in France? Didn't I blow my brains out all over the walls of the Godforsaken orphanage? I tried to scour my brain for any ideas on why I'm in France, but nothing came to mind.

"Who are you guys, anyway?" I asked. I knew they were British. I like specifics. "102nd British Infantry, Mr. Estacado," the soldier in charge told me. "What company are you with anyway, yank?"

The soldier looked me up and down. "You certainly don't look like someone fit for this war."

I was in jeans, a raggedy zip-up sweatshirt, and my black coat I wear almost 24/7. "I'm not a soldier. And don't call me yank again or you'll be tasting the cold steel of my pistol down your throat!" I told him, tightening the grip on my pistols.

"Is that a threat, boy? Do you forget where you are?" The soldiers looked just about ready to kill me when Matthews came running up to the squad with another soldier by his side.

"Captain, I found Estacado," he said. I looked at the soldier named Estacado. He was tall, slim and young. There was a slender scar that had heeled cut into the side of his face, but other than that he was unharmed. All the other soldiers had cut faces riddled with stitches, but Estacado seemed to be untouched by this hellish nightmare.

"Jackie? Holy shit Jackie, is that really you?"

Anthony looked me up and down in amazement. Who the fuck was this mook? "Yeah. Who the hell are you?" I asked. I was confused beyond all recognition. But if my guesses were correct, all hell was about to break loose.

"You know this man, Estacado?" the commanding officer asked Anthony. Anthony nodded. "Yeah. I do actually. Can we talk in private, sir?" Anthony asked. The Captain nodded. "You've got ten minutes. Then we're moving into Mons. Gerry's got a bunker somewhere nearby."

Anthony then grabbed me and took me down the trenches into a bunker where no one could see us. When he dragged me into the room, I yanked my arm away and back away.

"All right, what the fuck is going on? Who are you? How do you know me?" I questioned. My heart was pounding and I began to thumb the pistol in my coat.

"All right, Jackie. I'm going to warn you. What I'm about to tell you will not sound real. But here we go. My name is Anthony Estacado. My father's name is Giseppi Estacado, born in Italy. Truth is, I am your great, great grandfather." I was silent. I had to take it all in. "What?"

"I know it sounds strange, but it's true. The Darkness, it won't allow you to die. When you killed yourself, it recreated a realm that seemed like Hell. You're in France during World War One. You're reliving what I tried to accomplish before The Darkness found me." That's when it hit me. "The Darkness, you have it too?"

Anthony shook his head. "Not exactly. I relived this moment so many times, but now that you're here Jackie it can all change," Anthony explained.

"The Darkness…it's not from this world. It's a demonic spirit that takes control of its host and causes it to do terrible things. Great, bloody, powerful, terrible things. It takes all the happiness from the world, it kills love, and it drives you to madness."

"So how did you get it?" I asked.

"Where we're heading, Mons. This whole platoon gets massacred and I am the only survivor. And for that, The Darkness visits me and saves me from death. I should've never done that. No one should change their fate. For my decision, I ruin all of our lives for the next three generations. I'm sorry, Jackie. I didn't mean for this," Anthony explained.

I stood in the room, like a tower about to crumble. My head burned and my memory began to attack me.

Flashes of Jenny's mutilated body crossed my eyes. Corpses on the battlefield, Aunt Sarah curled up in the corner with a knife in her gut, Paulie laughing maniacally while he put a gun to my head and pulled the trigger. Next thing I knew I was lying on the ground in front of Anthony.

"Jackie are you all right?" I shook my head trying to get the images out. "The Darkness?" he asked me. I nodded.

"This is what drives me to madness. Fight it, Jackie. Fight it," Anthony whispered to me. "They play tricks on you until you are completely and utterly under their control. Don't listen to them. They lie, Jackie. They lie."

I nodded and rose to my feet. "What must I do?" I asked. Anthony sighed and took a seat in the corner of the bunker, removing his hat and running his hand through his thick black hair.

"The Darkness has created this realm specifically for you. I don't know why, but this is your nightmare, Jackie. There's only one way you can get out of here in one piece...and that's retrieving the Darkness Guns." Darkness Guns? That had to be a joke. "Where are these Darkness Guns?"

"I don't know precisely. Somewhere out there in the Hills. Somewhere beyond here, through a horde of undead German soldiers lies the Four Horsemen of the Apocolypse. Find them, and you find the Guns, Jackie," Anthony explained. Then there was a hard knock on the door. "Estacado, it's Matthews. We're headin' out!" Anthony sighed and put his hat back on, grabbing his rifle from off the wall.

"I have to go now, Jackie. Get those Guns. Get the Guns and get the hell out of here!"

"I can come with you," I said. "I can kill The Darkness that kills your men. I can make it all better again, Tony." Anthony smirked and put his hand on my shoulder.

"I wish you could, Jackie, but it's too dangerous. Altering one's future can have dramatic effects...and I don't want that to happen again. Please, Jackie. Just go. You were meant to go, this is your fate, it's your destiny. Go now!" There was nothing I could do. I wasn't going to argue with my great, great grandfather.

"Don't worry, Jackie. Hopefully I'll never see you again," Anthony laughed. I nodded and left the bunker leaving Anthony to venture into Mons and inherit the same curse that has awakened within me. I hope he's right. For my sake, I hope these Guns change everything, so I can go back.

So I can go back and make that bastard Paulie pay. Pay for everything he's done.

Chapter Two

The Fulton Street Station was filled with low-lives, poor losers, and mobsters looking for work. Wackjobs like Ernie Livingston, whose left eye was gouged out during the Vietnam War.

Now all the poor bastard sees is the battle between angels and demons. Could it be a sign?

Jimmy the Grape told me to meet him near the stairs on the Lower East Side. Something about a job. I pushed past the harmonica player George Handel and up towards the street where I saw Jimmy the Grape.

Jimmy the Grape has been my confidant for a long time. All my information, all of the dirt I got on people was thanks to old Jimmy the Grape. He's been like a father to me. Well, he has been ever since Paulie turned his back on the family.

"Hey Jackie! How the hell are ya, Jackie?" Jimmy called to me. "Jimmy. Good to see you," I greeted my old friend. We shook hands and hugged. An old Italian greeting. "What's the latest, Jimmy?" I asked. Jimmy sighed and removed his hat. "A lot's going on, Jackie. That fat fuck Paulie's moving in on everybody. Everyone who was ever a friend of you is going down," Jimmy began.

"Even though he's not taking sides, Butcher Joyce is being haggled by the Franchetti family. Butcher has gone underground somewhere, laying low and waiting for some word of your return. Where the fuck have you been, Jackie?" Jimmy explained.

How could I tell him? How could I come to face the fact I blew my fucking brains out all over the walls and was sent to realm something not of this world where I met my great, great grandfather and re-lived World War One? I didn't think so.

"I've been out of town. On business," I lied.

"You think you couldn't send old Jimmy the Grape a fuckin' postcard or a damn phone call? We're family, Jackie. I'm worried about you. Don't let that mook Paulie get to you," Jimmy told me. I nodded. The ground began to rumble as a train came screeching into the tunnel. "So what's going on, Jimmy? What's this job you got lined up for me?" I asked.

The doors to the subway opened and five men from the Franchetti mob came out, talking amongst each other and laughing. "Oh shit, It's Paulie's goons. Head for Chinatown, go!" Jimmy shouted.

"It's Jackie and the Grape! Ice 'em!" one of Paulie's guys shouted. They broke out into a run after us as I yanked Jimmy up the stairs towards the Chinatown exit. "Go Jimmy, I'll hold 'em off!" I shouted to Jimmy the Grape as I pulled my M1911s out of my jacket. "Meet me at the alley on Raspberry Street," Jimmy called to me as he ran up and out of the station.

I pressed my back against the wall and lowered myself into a crouch as I heard the footsteps of Paulie's guys get nearer. I quickly spun around the corner, spraying the area with gunfire. Two bullets caught a guy in the throat as he fell to the ground, blood squirting into the air.

"They got Vinny. Kill that mother fucker!"


	2. Chapter 2

THE DARKNESS

Chapter One

"Wake up, Jackie Boy. It's not your time. It's not your time."

I awoke abruptly, glancing around with my hand on the pistol holstered inside my jacket. The subway screeched down the line, the car rocking side to side.

The subway was riddled with crude graffiti. Curse words and graffiti artists had their names tagged all over the car windows, walls, floor and chairs. My head was throbbing.

"What the hell just happened?"

There was a bright flash in my mind and a German soldier with no face appeared in the corner of the train, sitting quietly with a Karabiner rifle tucked in between his knees. "I know you. Get the fuck out of here. Get out of my head. You took her away from me!"

I pulled my pistol and squeezed off four rounds at the German. Instead of reacting, his head turned to me and he spoke to me as if out of a dream. "Welcome back, Jackie. We missed you. I missed you." The German's voice was hoarse and choppy. "Who missed me? Who are you?" I shouted, pointing the gun at the German.

"You know me too well, Jackie. Too well," and the German disappeared in a cloud of black ash.

I holstered my pistol again, glancing around the train to see two people curled up in the corner. "Please don't hurt us!" they cried. I hate it when people do that.

"I don't want to kill you. I'm not after you." The train began to slow and with a screeching halt, the subway doors opened and I got off at Fulton Street Station.

Boy did my Uncle Paulie fuck me over. Fat pig fuck took me for granted and thought he could take away my life. He was right in a sense. A life lesson to be learned, family doesn't turn on family.

But does that mook listen? Hell no. He takes my pride, my family, my childhood…and my girl. What did she do? Nothing. I watched as that demon shit, my curse, my burden the Darkness hold me prisoner and make me watch.

My face was pressed against the glass. That crooked rat fuck Captain Shrote watched as Paulie stood in the doorway, Jenny tied up and held hostage in his sausage fingers.

In his other hand was that .44. That deadly revolver that changed my life forever. I watched as the cold steel was pressed against the back of her head. With the pull of a trigger, a ball of lead separated the connection between me and her.

The blood on the window became a painting burned into the back of my memory I can never get rid of. So, I used that same revolver…and took my life. Or so I thought.

Hell. Every bad memory. Everyone whose ever died. Everything that I hated and feared in my life was recreated in this realm of torment. But it wasn't as I depicted it.

It wasn't a massive cave of fire and brimstone. Demons and gremlins didn't roam free under the spell of a satanic figure. Instead, I was in France. Not beautiful France, city of lights and sweet wine.

It was country France, rolling hills and wide-open pastures.

The sky was red and black with fire and smoke. The sun's light was blocked out by the rising tornado of smoke coming from a crater a few yards from where I was standing. A withered tree was curled up and dying next to me. I began to walk.

As I neared the smoke, I noticed the land began to change. Instead of rolling hills, trenches were engraved into the landscape. Craters were bombed into the dirt and mud in and around the trenches. Soldiers were dug in deep, sitting in a foot of mud with their rifles resting up against the trench walls. "Where the hell am I?" I continued on, down towards the trenches where the smoke was coming from. Corpses lay strewn all over the ground in front of the trench, bodies blown apart and others lying face down in the mud surrounded by barbed wire. No man's land.

That's when a bullet came screaming past my head. I rolled to the side and pulled out my two personalized M1911s I got for my 21st birthday. Along with this fucking curse.

"Oi, drop ya pistols or we'll shoot you dead!" one of the soldiers shouted from his position.

I looked to see at least twenty or more rifles aimed at me.

"I speak English, don't shoot!" I called back, holstering my pistols.

"Move slowly towards the trench. Now!" I slowly made a move towards the trenches. I then dropped in and sat down on a milk carton that was filled with ammunition.

"State your name and business, sir!" one of the soldiers ordered. I didn't realize their faces from that far distance. Now, up close, I wanted to throw up. These soldiers' faces were sliced up.

Immense lines of stitches covered their faces. Some had blood-shot eyes and others had small gashes in their necks where their insides pulsed with crimson blood.

"The name's Jackie Estacado. Where the fuck am I?" I told them. One of the soldiers, they were obviously British, turned to another soldier behind him and whispered something in his ear.

"Don't we know an Estacado? Some Yank in the 28th Infantry…" The other soldier nodded. "Yeah, yeah. He showed up here about a week ago. Picked him up near the Belgian border. Bring him up here, will ya, Matthews?"

The soldier disappeared down the trench as the others continued to eyeball me with pointed rifles and bayonets. "You still haven't answered my question. Where the hell am I? This obviously looks like Hell," I said. The soldier in the front, who was dressed in full uniform and assumed himself to be the commanding officer laughed.

"It looks like Hell, yes. But this is Reims, some town near the Belgian border." I scratched my forehead, moving my hand through my long thick black hair.

France. How the fuck did I get in France? Didn't I blow my brains out all over the walls of the Godforsaken orphanage? I tried to scour my brain for any ideas on why I'm in France, but nothing came to mind.

"Who are you guys, anyway?" I asked. I knew they were British. I like specifics. "102nd British Infantry, Mr. Estacado," the soldier in charge told me. "What company are you with anyway, yank?"

The soldier looked me up and down. "You certainly don't look like someone fit for this war."

I was in jeans, a raggedy zip-up sweatshirt, and my black coat I wear almost 24/7. "I'm not a soldier. And don't call me yank again or you'll be tasting the cold steel of my pistol down your throat!" I told him, tightening the grip on my pistols.

"Is that a threat, boy? Do you forget where you are?" The soldiers looked just about ready to kill me when Matthews came running up to the squad with another soldier by his side.

"Captain, I found Estacado," he said. I looked at the soldier named Estacado. He was tall, slim and young. There was a slender scar that had heeled cut into the side of his face, but other than that he was unharmed. All the other soldiers had cut faces riddled with stitches, but Estacado seemed to be untouched by this hellish nightmare.

"Jackie? Holy shit Jackie, is that really you?"

Anthony looked me up and down in amazement. Who the fuck was this mook? "Yeah. Who the hell are you?" I asked. I was confused beyond all recognition. But if my guesses were correct, all hell was about to break loose.

"You know this man, Estacado?" the commanding officer asked Anthony. Anthony nodded. "Yeah. I do actually. Can we talk in private, sir?" Anthony asked. The Captain nodded. "You've got ten minutes. Then we're moving into Mons. Gerry's got a bunker somewhere nearby."

Anthony then grabbed me and took me down the trenches into a bunker where no one could see us. When he dragged me into the room, I yanked my arm away and back away.

"All right, what the fuck is going on? Who are you? How do you know me?" I questioned. My heart was pounding and I began to thumb the pistol in my coat.

"All right, Jackie. I'm going to warn you. What I'm about to tell you will not sound real. But here we go. My name is Anthony Estacado. My father's name is Giseppi Estacado, born in Italy. Truth is, I am your great, great grandfather." I was silent. I had to take it all in. "What?"

"I know it sounds strange, but it's true. The Darkness, it won't allow you to die. When you killed yourself, it recreated a realm that seemed like Hell. You're in France during World War One. You're reliving what I tried to accomplish before The Darkness found me." That's when it hit me. "The Darkness, you have it too?"

Anthony shook his head. "Not exactly. I relived this moment so many times, but now that you're here Jackie it can all change," Anthony explained.

"The Darkness…it's not from this world. It's a demonic spirit that takes control of its host and causes it to do terrible things. Great, bloody, powerful, terrible things. It takes all the happiness from the world, it kills love, and it drives you to madness."

"So how did you get it?" I asked.

"Where we're heading, Mons. This whole platoon gets massacred and I am the only survivor. And for that, The Darkness visits me and saves me from death. I should've never done that. No one should change their fate. For my decision, I ruin all of our lives for the next three generations. I'm sorry, Jackie. I didn't mean for this," Anthony explained.

I stood in the room, like a tower about to crumble. My head burned and my memory began to attack me.

Flashes of Jenny's mutilated body crossed my eyes. Corpses on the battlefield, Aunt Sarah curled up in the corner with a knife in her gut, Paulie laughing maniacally while he put a gun to my head and pulled the trigger. Next thing I knew I was lying on the ground in front of Anthony.

"Jackie are you all right?" I shook my head trying to get the images out. "The Darkness?" he asked me. I nodded.

"This is what drives me to madness. Fight it, Jackie. Fight it," Anthony whispered to me. "They play tricks on you until you are completely and utterly under their control. Don't listen to them. They lie, Jackie. They lie."

I nodded and rose to my feet. "What must I do?" I asked. Anthony sighed and took a seat in the corner of the bunker, removing his hat and running his hand through his thick black hair.

"The Darkness has created this realm specifically for you. I don't know why, but this is your nightmare, Jackie. There's only one way you can get out of here in one piece...and that's retrieving the Darkness Guns." Darkness Guns? That had to be a joke. "Where are these Darkness Guns?"

"I don't know precisely. Somewhere out there in the Hills. Somewhere beyond here, through a horde of undead German soldiers lies the Four Horsemen of the Apocolypse. Find them, and you find the Guns, Jackie," Anthony explained. Then there was a hard knock on the door. "Estacado, it's Matthews. We're headin' out!" Anthony sighed and put his hat back on, grabbing his rifle from off the wall.

"I have to go now, Jackie. Get those Guns. Get the Guns and get the hell out of here!"

"I can come with you," I said. "I can kill The Darkness that kills your men. I can make it all better again, Tony." Anthony smirked and put his hand on my shoulder.

"I wish you could, Jackie, but it's too dangerous. Altering one's future can have dramatic effects...and I don't want that to happen again. Please, Jackie. Just go. You were meant to go, this is your fate, it's your destiny. Go now!" There was nothing I could do. I wasn't going to argue with my great, great grandfather.

"Don't worry, Jackie. Hopefully I'll never see you again," Anthony laughed. I nodded and left the bunker leaving Anthony to venture into Mons and inherit the same curse that has awakened within me. I hope he's right. For my sake, I hope these Guns change everything, so I can go back.

So I can go back and make that bastard Paulie pay. Pay for everything he's done.

Chapter Two

The Fulton Street Station was filled with low-lives, poor losers, and mobsters looking for work. Wackjobs like Ernie Livingston, whose left eye was gouged out during the Vietnam War.

Now all the poor bastard sees is the battle between angels and demons. Could it be a sign?

Jimmy the Grape told me to meet him near the stairs on the Lower East Side. Something about a job. I pushed past the harmonica player George Handel and up towards the street where I saw Jimmy the Grape.

Jimmy the Grape has been my confidant for a long time. All my information, all of the dirt I got on people was thanks to old Jimmy the Grape. He's been like a father to me. Well, he has been ever since Paulie turned his back on the family.

"Hey Jackie! How the hell are ya, Jackie?" Jimmy called to me. "Jimmy. Good to see you," I greeted my old friend. We shook hands and hugged. An old Italian greeting. "What's the latest, Jimmy?" I asked. Jimmy sighed and removed his hat. "A lot's going on, Jackie. That fat fuck Paulie's moving in on everybody. Everyone who was ever a friend of you is going down," Jimmy began.

"Even though he's not taking sides, Butcher Joyce is being haggled by the Franchetti family. Butcher has gone underground somewhere, laying low and waiting for some word of your return. Where the fuck have you been, Jackie?" Jimmy explained.

How could I tell him? How could I come to face the fact I blew my fucking brains out all over the walls and was sent to realm something not of this world where I met my great, great grandfather and re-lived World War One? I didn't think so.

"I've been out of town. On business," I lied.

"You think you couldn't send old Jimmy the Grape a fuckin' postcard or a damn phone call? We're family, Jackie. I'm worried about you. Don't let that mook Paulie get to you," Jimmy told me. I nodded. The ground began to rumble as a train came screeching into the tunnel. "So what's going on, Jimmy? What's this job you got lined up for me?" I asked.

The doors to the subway opened and five men from the Franchetti mob came out, talking amongst each other and laughing. "Oh shit, It's Paulie's goons. Head for Chinatown, go!" Jimmy shouted.

"It's Jackie and the Grape! Ice 'em!" one of Paulie's guys shouted. They broke out into a run after us as I yanked Jimmy up the stairs towards the Chinatown exit. "Go Jimmy, I'll hold 'em off!" I shouted to Jimmy the Grape as I pulled my M1911s out of my jacket. "Meet me at the alley on Raspberry Street," Jimmy called to me as he ran up and out of the station.

I pressed my back against the wall and lowered myself into a crouch as I heard the footsteps of Paulie's guys get nearer. I quickly spun around the corner, spraying the area with gunfire. Two bullets caught a guy in the throat as he fell to the ground, blood squirting into the air.

"They got Vinny. Kill that mother fucker!" Uzis were pulled out from underneath coats and jackets and muzzle fire tore through the subway tile walls. Plaster and sheet rock exploded everywhere.

People ran for cover, ducking under benches and behind walls. I fired rounds around the corner, trying to keep them at bay. "C'mon Jackie Boy! Come out and let's make it easy." They were trying to lure me out. Fucking dumbasses thought I would too. So I ran off, up the stairs and disappeared into the night light of Chinatown.

Paulie's boys stood in the subway station, staring at the corner where I was. "Jackie?" One of Paulie's guys slowly made his way up the stairs, his Uzi outstretched in front of him.


End file.
